


Taking Root

by VeriLee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I know nothing of farming, Plaidam, don't look too close, falling for flannel, just ben and rey falling in love by a cornfield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 14:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeriLee/pseuds/VeriLee
Summary: It's no different from any year before it; Rey is used to drifting along like a tumbleweed in the wind. She has no place to call home, no roots holding her firmly in place. But she grew up on a farm, and even if she'd much rather forget her angry Uncle Plutt, and her time spent under his thumb, she knows what she's doing.Or, it shouldn't be different from any other year.Usually, it isn't so hard to say goodbye. Usually, she doesn't fall for her boss's wayward son come home again, however.





	Taking Root

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lorel_steele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorel_steele/gifts).

> A little bit of fall fluff inspired by this lovely moodboard made by lorel_ren!! Thanks and hugs to @myjedilife for the beta!! <3

Rey walks along the edge of the corn field, the stalks tall and proud, heavy with fat, full ears of corn. They'll be harvesting this field within the week and will be done for the season.  


In the distance, the trees shading the Solo's farmhouse are dressed in red and gold and amber leaves that glitter in the autumn sun like jewels. Each morning is just a little crisper, a little cooler.  


Oh, to be sure, there is more work to be done on the farm - Rey has worked on enough of them to know that. There is no  _ true _ off-season here.  


But she was hired on as extra help for the harvest. Starting in mid July, with the early batches of sweet corn, up until the last fields are empty. Soon it will be time to move on.  


It's no different from any year before it; Rey is used to drifting along like a tumbleweed in the wind. She has no place to call home, no roots holding her firmly in place. But she grew up on a farm, and even if she'd much rather forget her angry Uncle Plutt, and her time spent under his thumb, she knows what she's doing.

Or, it  _ shouldn't  _ be different from any other year.  


Usually, it isn't so hard to say goodbye. Sometimes it's a relief even, to find winter work somewhere indoors, needing a break from the sun and heat that is so often her companion.  


Usually, she doesn't fall for her boss's wayward son come home again, however.  


Rey worked Han and Leia's farm last year, too. But the mysterious Ben Solo was only mentioned by name a handful of times, accompanied by wistful shared glances between the aging couple. Rey had not expected him to show up midway through the season, ready to throw himself into working as if he hadn't been absent for years, but not at all ready to speak about the life he'd left behind in the city. Rey overheard a conversation or two between him and Leia, and guiltily hadn't shied away from listening in, not that he said much. He'd taken a job somewhere Leia had disapproved of and  _ something _ had happened to drive him back home.  


Something happens over the summer though, something unexpectedly grows between Rey and Ben. They work, side by side with all the other staff, both permanent and temporary, without talking much. But there is always a little charge, like electricity, pulsing between them. From the first time Rey looked into his eyes, she knew he was someone who could truly understand her. He is older than her, but only by a couple of years, but his eyes are those of an ancient and timeless soul, and somehow she sees herself, her longing and loneliness, in them.  


Stolen snippets of conversation between tasks ebb into shared dinners, late in the evening after work was done. Long conversations on the porch of the bunkhouse Rey was staying in, and kisses under the moonlight. On rare off days, he saddles up a couple of the family horses and they ride until the sky is painted with swathes of orange and pink. There isn't much talking on those days, but the looks they share say more than words.  


And yet, as the summer fades into fall, Rey becomes only too aware of how fleeting their time together is. He'll stay, here at  _ home _ where he belongs, and she'll see where the wind carries her, though her heart will forever linger.  


"You weren't at dinner."

Rey startles at the deep voice behind her - low but ringing firm and clear above the rustling of corn stalks in the breeze.  


"I wasn't hungry," Rey answers, turning with a soft smile towards Ben. It is Sunday, which means everyone on staff is invited to the Solo's home for a big dinner before the work week kicks off again.  


Ben raises a skeptical eyebrow and smirks, drawing forth a slight blush from Rey. It’s true, she is so rarely  _ not _ hungry.  


Rey shrugged. How could she say what is really on her mind? That it’s getting too hard to sit in Leia's dining room, sharing smiles with Ben, pretending it’s a place where she belongs? That she knows goodbye is coming and needs to start preparing herself?

"I miss you when you're not there," Ben says, and Rey swallows heavily at the vulnerability she hears in his voice.  


"I won't be around at all soon enough," she points out, meeting his eyes and hoping he can hear what she doesn’t say - that she wishes it weren’t so.  


"Do-" Ben pauses, swallows, and takes a tentative step closer. "Do you have to go?" he asks.  


"Well, my contract will be up," Rey says with a shrug. "I'll have to find other work."

"You could, you know, stay here while you look?” It’s not quite a statement, not quite a question, but there is a hopeful lilt in his voice.  


“In the bunkhouse?” Rey asks. “I don’t think your parents keep it open in the off-season.”

“That. Or in the main house,” he hedges. “With me?”

“Oh.” It’s a startlingly intimate offer. Ben’s been staying with his parents since he came back from the city. She can almost envision the family dinners, holiday celebrations through fall and winter. It’s a fantasy that is way too invasive, and way too early, given they’ve known each other a handful of weeks. And yet the hominess is instantly appealing, and Rey’s heart aches for it.

“I’ve never had a really good reason to stick around before,” Rey whispers.  


“I’d really like it if you would,” Ben says, his own voice just as faint as hers. He swallows heavily, works his jaw as if he’s struggling to speak. “Please?”

Ben holds out his hand, and Rey doesn’t miss how it shakes, just a little. Part of her wants to run, to keep the fantasy of Ben Solo safe - a memory to look back on fondly. To stay, to try to explore this  _ connection _ that has blossomed between them is to take a risk, to let her heart be vulnerable.

But she locks her gaze with Ben’s once more. He’s already taking that risk, just in offering himself to her. Whatever the future holds, she has to take the chance as well.  


“Okay,” Rey says with a little nod, steeling herself. She steps forward and clasps Ben’s hand with her own. “Let’s figure something out.”

  
  



End file.
